"The birds dive off from the raft, and can swim under water with great rapidity. Sometimes they are not inclined to fish, and require to be pushed off, and, perhaps, beaten a little by their master. If they have been well trained, they swim directly towards the raft, when they rise to the surface; but sometimes a cormorant will go off the other way, in the hope of being able to swallow the fish he holds in his mouth. In such case the fisherman follows and captures the runaway, punishing him soundly for his misconduct. Whenever a bird catches a fish and brings it to the raft, he is rewarded with a mouthful of food. In this way he soon learns to associate his success with something to eat; and a cormorant that has been well trained has a good deal of fidelity in his composition. I am uncertain which to admire most, the dexterity of the fisherman in handling his raft, or the perseverance and celerity of the cormorants." On her arrival at Han-kow, the steamer was tied up to the bank in front of the portion of the city occupied by the foreigners. Han-kow is on a broad tongue of land at the junction of the Han with the Yang-tse. On the opposite side of the Han is the city of Han-yang, and over on the other bank of the Yang-tse is Wo-chang. Here is the brief description given by the Doctor in a letter to friends at home: "A hill between Han-kow and Han-yang rises about six hundred feet, and affords one of the finest views in the world, and, in some respects, one of the most remarkable. We climbed there yesterday a little before sunset, and remained as long as the fading daylight and the exigencies of our return permitted. At our feet lay the Yang-tse, rolling towards the sea after its junction with the Han, which we could trace afar, like a ribbon of silver winding through the green plain. Away to the west was a range of mountains, lighted by the setting sun, and overhung with golden and purple clouds; while to the south was an undulating country, whose foreground was filled with the walled city of Wo-chang. The crenelated walls enclose an enormous space, much of which is so desolate that foreigners are accustomed to hunt pheasants and hares within the limits. They say that at one time all this space was covered with buildings, and that the buildings were crowded with occupants. The three cities suffered terribly during the rebellion, and more than three fourths of their edifices were levelled. Looking from the hill, it is easy to see the traces of the destruction, although twenty years have passed since the insurrection was suppressed. The population of the three cities was said to have been four or five millions; but, even after making allowance for the density with which Chinese cities are crowded, I should think those figures were too high. However, there is no doubt that it was very great, and probably more people lived here than on any similar area anywhere else in the world."